


Security

by MoonwalkingCrab



Series: Stepping Stones [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Mighty Nein as Family, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Virgin Caduceus Clay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonwalkingCrab/pseuds/MoonwalkingCrab
Summary: Nightmares, unfortunately, are common in the Mighty Nein. Caduceus has never had to deal with his own before.





	Security

A familiar breeze wafts through the trees, ruffling Caduceus’ hair and sending ripples through the sea of pale grass that surrounds him. The light is dim, and as he turns to glance behind, he realises he is alone. 

Silence surrounds him, no birdsong or rustling of insects, the only sound that of his own breaths. Wary, Caduceus walks on, ears twitching, searching out any hint of life around him. 

The path is winding, yet almost familiar, tall trees twisted in on themselves, their leaves dulled, purpling and spotted. Twisted tangles of thorns snake through the undergrowth, tearing through bracken, leaves and anything else that stands in their way. What little light that passes through the canopy is cold and grey and Caduceus can feel a shiver slowly climbing his spine. 

With a whisper he lights his staff, the pale glow from the amethyst splintering the shadows in all directions, scattering them into the undergrowth. There is a heavy feeling in Caduceus’ gut, a creeping dread that makes every inch of hair on his body stand on end. He slips his eyes closed and breathes deep, stretching his senses out in an attempt to reach the Wildmother, gain some sort of insight. 

The wind drops. There is silence. 

Caduceus frowns to himself, a faint tremor of fear coiling around his throat. This isn't right. His footfalls echo through the trees as he walks faster, following the path, an eerie familiarity tickling in the back of his mind. 

The further he walks, the colder it becomes, starbursts of frost blooming through the deadfall on the ground. Goosebumps rise on Caduceus’ skin as the first flakes of snow begin to fall, setting his hair on end. He reaches a hand out, placing it on the grey bark of a nearby tree and feels numbness rush through him. 

Jerking his hand back, Caduceus glances around, the thorn-covered shapes suddenly all too familiar; the ridges of the fences, radiating ring after ring around a tumble of stones that was once his home. 

The pools and ponds are iced over, the flowers that Caduceus raised from the smallest seedlings throttled by the briars that appear to have ripped through the stone of the temple, tearing it apart. He gasps in a breath, chest tightening as his staff clatters to the ground and he rushes forwards. 

The ice beneath Caduceus’ feet sends him sprawling, his stomach giving a lurch as he falls to his hands and knees, face a bare inch from the ice. 

Wide eyes stare back at him and Caduceus scrambles to push himself away. 

It isn't a reflection. 

The face of Clarabelle, his sister, lies unmoving beneath the surface, her mouth open in a silent scream. Beside her another face, and another, and another; Caduceus can see his entire family, frozen and terrified, trapped within the ice. “No,” he whispers to himself, breath speeding, “no, no, no!” 

He reaches for his staff, ready to bring it down on the ice in a vain attempt to free them and finds it gone. 

The snow is falling faster now, in thick, white flurries that spiral around Caduceus in a dizzying whirlwind that blanks out his vision. Terror rises in his chest and he curls his hand into a fist, bringing it down on the ice and wincing as pain lances through him. He punches again, feeling the skin on his knuckles split, the crimson of his blood staining the ice. 

“I'll get you out,” he says, voice shaking, “I'll get you out, just hold on.” 

The wind whips Caduceus’ hair into his face, stinging cold. As he blinks it away, the face beneath the ice shifts, skin turning blue, horns coiling out from dark hair. 

“Jester?” 

All around him the shapes are writhing beneath the ice, morphing and changing, only the expression of fear remaining the same; Fjord, Nott, Beau, Yasha, face after face frozen in terror beneath Caduceus’ bloodied hands. He feels helpless, no spells coming to mind as he crouches on his knees, eyes darting from person to person. “I'm sorry,” he whispers, “I'm so sorry.”

Something tickles in the back of Caduceus mind and he lurches up, hope flaring in his chest. 

Caleb. He has to be okay. You can't freeze fire. 

He stumbles through the swirling cold, searching for the flame of Caleb's hair within the flurries that surround him. There has to be something, anything, some spark of brightness within the freezing cold. Caduceus can feel his breath turning into icicles in his throat and reaches out blindly for any sort of guidance. 

His fingertips brush against a familiar hand; rough skin wrapped in rougher bandages and the snow seems to part in an instant. 

“Oh thank goodness you're all right, Mr Caleb, I was—” 

Caleb's eyes stare back, blank, bright blue clouded over by frost. Unlike the others, his expression is one of resignation rather than fear and it chills Caduceus far more than the icy wind that whips around him. His stomach clenches in on itself and Caduceus heaves, nothing coming out. He has failed. His home is gone. His family and friends are gone. Caleb is gone. He is alone. Again. 

A sharp crack rings through the silence and Caduceus feels the ground shift beneath his feet as the ice shatters and he is plunged into frozen darkness.

*****

Caduceus wakes up panting, cold sweat clinging to every inch of his fur. He sits bolt upright and feels the fabric of the tent brush over the tip of his ear. Beside him, in a bedroll, Fjord snores and rolls over, oblivious.

Caduceus’ heart pounds, the cold panic and fear a solid lump in his chest. After checking that Fjord is indeed alive and well—and being swatted away with a grunt—he crawls out of the tent, needing to know that everyone else is okay. 

He can hear a low murmur of voices as he approaches the remains of the fire. Silhouetted against the faint glow, Caduceus sees Caleb seated on a fallen tree, Nott stood next to him, fingers deftly working through the tangle of his hair, braiding it back from his face. They are facing away from him, keeping watch as they talk and as Caduceus steps closer he can make out Caleb's soft words. 

“...made you that promise, and I _will_ keep it. I just need to be stronger.” He sounds tired, yet determined and Caduceus feels a burst of warmth inside him, lessening the grip of the nightmare, just a little. 

Nott's chuckle is as dry as the summer grass around them. “I know you will, Caleb.” She pauses in her braiding to pluck a small flower—a forget-me-not—before weaving it into the copper strands. “I hope we'll still be friends when I'm a halfling again.”

Caleb turns, taking her by the wrist, his expression incredulous,. “Nott, you're already my family, _ja_? That's not going to change.” He gives a thin smile and Caduceus feels that warmth flare once more. 

Nott nods, her ears suddenly pricking up and she turns to Caduceus, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. “Mr Clay? Is everything all right?” 

“I…um, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt,” Caduceus says, unconsciously flattening his ears in apology. “I had a bit of a bad dream and wanted to make sure everything is fine out here.” He presses his fingertips together, staring down at his feet. “I'm kinda awake now.”

“We're fine,” Caleb says, looking Caduceus over as he steps over the log and settles on the other side, cross-legged. “Are you sure you're okay, you look a little shaken?” His voice is tinged with concern and he reaches over, placing a hand on Caduceus shoulder and squeezing gently. “I know a thing or two about nightmares.”

“I'll be fine,” Caduceus says, glad for the touch, shuffling himself a little closer. 

“Well, we're right here if you want to keep watch with us,” Nott says, ears twitching for a moment before she picks up her handful of forget-me-nots. “I can braid your hair if you like.”

Caduceus hears Caleb chuckle softly and smiles. “Sure, that sounds nice.” He leans back against the log and feels Caleb's hand settle a little more securely on his shoulder, circling over his back. 

Deft goblin fingers work through the length of Caduceus’ hair as Nott gets to work and he can feel another icy shard of fear melt away into nothingness. 

“What was your dream about, Mr Clay?” Nott asks. “Was it very bad?” 

Caduceus can feel Caleb's fingers tighten for just a moment. “Nott, if he doesn't want to talk about it—” 

“No, it's okay.” Caduceus places a hand over Caleb's, needing the shared touch. He tilts his head up to meet Caleb's eyes and smiles softly, feeling a flurry of butterflies in his stomach; he really wants to kiss him. 

As Caleb's gentle fingers trail up the length of his neck, Caduceus has never been more glad of giving into that first spark of impulsiveness that is so unlike him. Since their first night reading together, he and Caleb have shared a few quiet moments and stolen kisses; nothing rushed or too overwhelming, but still nowhere near enough. He’d love nothing more than to pull their lips together right now, but Nott is right there, one eyebrow raised.

“Hmm?” Caduceus says, his contemplation of Caleb's lips having distracted him from Nott’s previous question.

“Your dream?” Caleb says, hand now tracing a slow path from Caduceus’ shoulder to the base of his ear in a way that is very distracting.

“Oh that, yeah.” Caduceus’ gaze drops to his hands and he wishes he'd brought his teamaking kit out of the tent with him. “My home was gone, it had been taken over by the thorns. The Wildmother had abandoned it...and me.” He purses his lips together, the memory of his sister beneath the ice springing up and making him shudder. “Everyone I knew was frozen in ice and there was nothing I could do to help them.”

“Well,” Nott says, “at least it was just a dream.” She pats awkwardly at the top of Caduceus’ head, dropping one long braid from her hands before starting on another. “You’re not going to start coughing up thorns now, are you?”

“I don’t think so,” Caduceus says, shaking his head. “I am worried though, I’ve been away for so long, who knows what’s happening with the Grove now.” He lets out a sigh, ears drooping. “We’ve gone all through that book and I still don’t have any idea what’s happening.”

“Well that is why we are here,” Caleb says, hand unconsciously moving to stroke the length of Caduceus’ ear now, making him shiver. “I have read that book, too, and I have maybe one or two ideas.” He meets Caduceus’ eyes once more, tongue slipping out to wet his lower lip. “I promise, we will help you.” 

“Yeah,” Nott echoes, breaking Caduceus’ fixation on Caleb’s lips, “the Mighty Nein stick together.” She grins as Caduceus glances towards her—a terrifying sight, really—and places a final flower in his hair. “There.” 

“Thank you,” Caduceus says, warmth blooming within him once more. He breathes deep, hearing the sound of rustling leaves as the wind sweeps through their campsite, bringing with it the scent of fresh flowers and new growth. He can feel the Wildmother’s presence and the last knot of worry inside him slips away. “I’m very glad I have you. All of you.”

Caleb’s fingers stroke up the length of Caduceus’ ear again, sending another pleasurable shiver down his spine. “The feeling is most definitely mutual,” he murmurs.

For the third time, their gazes lock and Caduceus can feel his breath catch in his throat, an electric jolt of want sparking somewhere deep within him. He swallows, leaning up as Caleb seems to draw in closer, his hand warm on Caduceus’ skin.

“Ooh! Are we having a slumber party?”

A bright voice cuts through the night air as Jester emerges from one of the other tents. 

Caleb seems to snap to attention, straightening up and dropping his hand from Caduceus’ ear back to his shoulder. He gives a brief squeeze and Caduceus is certain he can hear him mutter some Zemnian swear word under his breath. He turns to smile at Jester and feels his mood drop again; her eyes are surrounded by deep circles and Caduceus is certain he can see the last few glimmers of tears trailing down her cheeks. She gives a half-hearted looking smile of her own and gestures towards the tent. “Beau is snoring again, I don’t know how Yasha can sleep through it,” she says, voice wavering slightly.

Glancing to both Caleb and Nott, Caduceus can tell that they have both noticed it, too. 

“It seems no one is sleeping well tonight,” Caleb says. “Come sit by the fire. It’s still warm.”

Jester nods, though she makes no motion to come over, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her skirt, clutching for the symbol of the Traveler that still hangs from her belt, despite their recent run in with her ‘brethren’.

“It can be a slumber party, if you like,” Nott says, dashing along the log to take Jester by the hand. “Do you want me to braid your hair? I already did the boys’.”

The smallest twitch of a smile crosses Jester’s lips. “That would be nice. Thanks, Nott.” She glances towards Caduceus and Caleb and bites her lip. “Maybe we could go to your tent and talk as well?”

“Actually, I think Caleb was just heading to bed, and I’m sure Mr Clay needs his rest, too.” Nott widens her eyes at them both, jerking her head towards the empty tent. “We can keep watch while we talk.”

“Okay, that’s good, too.”

“Well, I guess I’ll go, um, sleep then.” Caleb nods to Jester before glaring pointedly at Nott, who smirks, raising her eyebrows at them both and giving Caleb an exaggerated wink.

Caduceus feels Caleb tug gently at his shoulder and rises to his full height, careful not to dislodge the flowers from his hair. “Goodnight, Miss Jester, Nott,” he says, following behind Caleb and hearing a hiss of whispered conversation as they leave the faint warmth of the near-dead fire.

_“Are they going to the same tent?!”_

_“Shh! Just let them go.”_

_“Do you think they’re going to kiss...or_ more _?”_

Caduceus flattens his ears down, trying to block out the whispers and giggles, heat rising up his cheeks as he crawls into the tent. 

The interior is lit by the drifting glass globe that Caleb usually carries, and in its dim light, Caduceus can see that Caleb’s cheeks are just as flushed as his own, his brows creased in a frown. He shucks off his coat, boots, and books, setting them aside before turning to Caduceus, expression softening. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” Caduceus says, breathing deep as Caleb wraps his arms around him, surrounding him in warmth, security, and the earthy, charcoal scent of his skin. “Much better, now.” He buries his face in the crook of Caleb’s neck and inhales again, eyes sliding closed. “I’m glad you were awake.”

“Even if I hadn’t been. I would hope you might come find me.” Caleb’s hands stroke symbols over Caduceus’ back—nonsense or arcane, he cannot tell. “I, um,” Caleb clears his throat, “I care for you...very much.” 

Caduceus can feel a low, syrupy, heat spread through him and nuzzles against Caleb’s throat, feeling him shiver at the slight coldness of his nose. “I care for you, too,” he says and hears what might be a sigh of relief escape Caleb’s lips. Pulling back, he raises his hand to brush over the scruff of Caleb’s cheek, the prickle of stubble rough against his thumb. “I’m done thinking about that dream. Can I kiss you now?”

Caleb leans into the touch, his breath warm over Caduceus’ lips as he murmurs, “You can kiss me any time.”

They come together in a soft, slow press of lips against lips, Caleb’s arms wrapping around Caduceus’ neck to pull him close. He sighs into the kiss with a soft _‘Mmm’_ , all but clambering into Caduceus’ lap to press against his chest. There is no sense of urgency to their kisses, but Caduceus can feel a pressure rising inside him nonetheless. Heat fills him from head to toe as he parts his mouth, sweeping his tongue over the swell of Caleb’s lower lip. He definitely feels like he’s getting better with practice, and the soft moan that Caleb lets out only seems to affirm that belief. 

Caleb kisses the same way he does everything else; with intensity and focus, trying and testing and improving when he finds something that works. Caduceus can only imagine how Caleb manages to file away his reactions, adapting with everything that makes him hiss in a breath and discarding what doesn’t. It always makes his heart flutter when he can distract Caleb from that, be the one to make him gasp instead.

Caleb’s lips are chapped, rough against the soft cleft of Caduceus’ upper lip, but every slight discomfort is soothed away with further kisses. His hands move from Caduceus’ back to his shoulders, gently pushing him to lie on the mussed bedroll before sliding his fingers up to tangle in the long strands of his hair, careful not to dislodge Nott's flowers.

Caduceus’ ears prick up at the sensation of fingertips across his scalp and he groans, the sound making Caleb pull back with a look of curiosity on his face. He strokes over the shaved side of Caduceus’ hair, trailing fingers up the length of his ear, a faint smile appearing on his lips as Caduceus shivers at the touch. “This feels good?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus says with a nod, “it’s...it’s really nice.” His fingers tighten on Caleb’s hips, another groan caught in his throat as Caleb repeats the motion. His eyes are bright as he leans back a little further, propping himself up on one elbow, studying Caduceus’ face intently.

Caduceus swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks, his breath speeding a little under Caleb’s intense gaze. He squirms as another stroke to his ear sends a jolt of sensation through his stomach, heading lower. It’s a little too much to handle.

Reaching up, Caduceus takes hold of Caleb’s wrist, gently pulling it down to kiss over the silvered scars that cover Caleb’s skin. “That’s enough, I think,” he murmurs. “Sorry, it’s just a bit much.”

Caleb shakes his head and leans into the crook of Caduceus’ neck, pressing a soft kiss there as he breathes deep. “There’s nothing to apologise for,” he says, bringing his hand back to Caduceus’ chin, “there’s no need to rush anything, _ja_?.” His eyes slip closed and he leans in for another kiss, far softer than before.

Their tongues twine together in a slow swirl that has Caduceus’ toes curling. He spreads his palms over Caleb’s back, feeling the ridges of his spine, even beneath the layer of his shirt. He’s so warm, as if the fire he so often summons runs through his very veins. It’s comforting almost, knowing that such power is right beneath Caduceus’ palms, contained within Caleb’s slim body; that all that focus, right now, is centred purely on him.

His fingers clench in the fabric of Caleb’s shirt, bunching it up to reveal a sliver of skin that almost burns as Caduceus’ wrist brushes over it. Without thinking, Caduceus slides his hand up and under, feeling Caleb gasp into his mouth as his palm slides over bare skin for the first time. It’s soft, far softer than Caduceus expected, the faint ridges of old scars rising up against his fingertips. 

Caleb’s own hands are pressed against Caduceus’ chest, slipping up his throat and over his collarbones, stroking at the rough hair of his beard as he catches Caduceus’ lower lip between his teeth. They scrape over the sensitive skin, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to let a low moan escape Caduceus’ throat.”

“ _Scheiße_ ,” Caleb murmurs, pulling away. “Was that—”

Caduceus doesn’t answer, surging forward to deepen the kiss once more. His hand slips around to Caleb’s front, brushing the slight softness of his stomach, sliding up through the trail of hair that covers it. He feels like he can’t get enough of Caleb’s skin; so soft and yielding, the faint hairs so different from his own layer of fuzz. He wants to touch, but more than that, he wants to see.

“Caleb,” he murmurs, breathless, hitching the shirt up a little further, “is this okay?”

“Hm? _Ja_.” Caleb’s voice is low, rougher. Caduceus can feel the rise and fall of his breath beneath the palm that caresses the faint jut of each rib. He glances down, wondering how he can work the buttons without taking his hand from Caleb’s body: Thaumaturgy maybe?

Making the decision for him, Caleb pulls away, roughly dragging the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. Caduceus can only stare, taking in the expanse of pale human skin, dotted with moles and freckles, dark stars on a white sky. Patches of reddish hair cover Caleb’s chest and stomach, thinning just a little as it trails downwards and Caduceus snaps his gaze back to Caleb’s face before his thoughts turn in that direction and make him nervous. A flare of panic seems to bloom behind Caleb’s eyes as he glances over himself and he folds his arms over his skinny chest, colour rising to his cheeks. “I’m really not much to look at.”

A spark of sadness cuts through the simmering heat that fills Caduceus’ body and he reaches out, tilting Caleb’s chin up, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t think I know enough words to tell you how much I like looking at you.” He hopes Caleb can tell just how sincerely he means it.

The corner of Caleb’s mouth twitches up and he wraps his arms around Caduceus, kissing him again, cupping his face in both hands. They sink back into the bedroll, Caleb rolling atop Caduceus’ chest, allowing Caduceus’ hands to roam the bare expanse of his back. 

When Caleb pulls away again, Caduceus can’t quite believe the whine that leaves his lips, the sound rapidly morphing into a soft moan as Caleb begins trailing open-mouthed kisses down his throat. Every mark feels like a brand, making Caduceus shiver the instant Caleb pulls away, the night air quickly cooling his damp skin. In an attempt to keep himself grounded, Caduceus runs his thumbs over Caleb’s collarbones, marvelling at just how delicate they feel beneath his thumbs. This man is a walking contradiction; strong and fragile in a single touch, so powerful yet so weak. Caduceus knew a long time ago that he had to protect him, and this just strengthens his resolve.

Caleb’s fingers twitch at the edges of his own shirt, tugging ever-so-slightly at the tie that holds it closed. Colour rides high on his cheeks, his hair mussed in a glorious halo in the dim magical light. He leans down, voice rough as he murmurs, “ _Darf ich?_ ”

“I don’t know what that means, but sure.” Caduceus says, breathless, unable to look anywhere but Caleb’s eyes.

Caleb chuckles, placing one hand in the centre of Caduceus’ chest, the other still toying with the tie of his shirt. He gives it a tug, the knot loosening slightly. “May I?”

“Oh,” Caduceus swallows, nodding, “yeah, I’d like that.”

Caleb’s smile is wide as, with a single flick of his hand, the knot comes loose and he pushes the shirt open, teeth coming out to scrape over his lower lip as he gazes down. He spreads his palms over Caduceus’ chest, running his fingers through the longer hair there, the colour shifting from grey to white to the same pale pink as his hair. “ _Weich…_ ” he murmurs to himself before dipping down, kissing over Caduceus’ collarbones. The stubble of his beard catches a little, tickling, and Caduceus feels another burst of warmth, a pleasant simmer within him that could so easily boil over and intensify—when he’s ready for that. 

Caleb lets out a little grunt of pleasure as Caduceus’ fingers circle over a knot of tension in his shoulder. He glances up, catching Caduceus’ contented smile and returning one of his own—albeit slightly more tired. 

Pulling him back up, Caduceus kisses Caleb deeply, wrapping his arms around him and pulling their chests flush together, needing to feel as much of their skin connected as possible. He can almost feel the tiredness that radiates from Caleb and realises that he hasn’t had any sleep yet, and that just won’t do. He's still a Cleric after all.

“What time is it?” he mumbles between kisses, gently stroking the length of Caleb’s back.

“Just after three a.m. Why?” Caleb nuzzles into the crook of Caduceus’ neck, fingers still combing through the hair of his chest.

“It might be time to try sleeping again,” Caduceus says, frowning slightly as the memory of his nightmare resurfaces. “Can I stay here with you?”

“I had hoped you might say that.” Caleb sits up, shuffling a few things around in the bedroll, bundling both their shirts up with his coat and scarf to serve as an extra pillow. He runs his hand down Caduceus’ arm, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. “I can’t promise protection from nightmares, but I am right here if they happen.”

“Me, too.” Caduceus says as Caleb settles back down beside him, tapping the floating globe and dimming the light. “Goodnight, Caleb.”

Slim arms slip around him and Caduceus shuffles closer, nestled against Caleb’s chest, the earthy scent of his skin making him think of home.

“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love this ship so much, they deserve all the softness. Please feel free to stop by and say hi on [tumblr](http://moonwalkingcrab.tumblr.com/).


End file.
